It is the generally-accepted meaning of success,
perhaps in its lowest sense, the contrary of failure ; and I
mean the same as Mr. Morley does when he speaks of
success in the following words : — ' It is the bitterest
element in the vast irony of human life that the time-
worn eyes to which a son's success would have brought
the purest gladness are so often closed for ever before
success has come.'
If the fashion grows of parents handing over to
-children some of the money which would otherwise come
SONS 273
to them only after their parents' death, the habit of early
saving when expenses are increased on first leaving home
might enable young people to live much more economically
than they have done in the luxurious houses where they
have been brought up. Anybody who remembers the
accounts of the childhoods of our grandfathers and
grandmothers will realise what a garret life the children
of rich people led at the beginning of the century. The
following anecdote is a small instance in point : — My
grandparents were very rich, and spent 60,OOOZ. on the
Parliamentary election of their eldest son. My mother,
who came in the middle of a large family, has often
described to me how underfed she was as a child, and
how she would gladly pick up and eat the sucked crusts
dropped by the babies on the nursery floor. Another of the
terrors of her childhood was that during the cold Northern
winters the nurserymaid used to be sent down to break
the ice on a fountain in the yard, where the children
were habitually bathed, as a means of strengthening
them. She also remembered the keen delight with
which they welcomed the news that the ice was un-
breakable. When they grew up, after seventeen their
life was merged into that of their parents, and my
mother used to wonder what they would think of her —
she had seen so little of them during her childhood.
This bringing-up may certainly have had the effect of
enabling the children of the rich to make poorer mar-
riages than they are willing to do now after being nursed
in the lap of luxury from their infancy. Poor marriages
can be very happy if both parties realise what they
undertake, and if the husband belongs to a profession
where an increase of income is possible, and where his
professional expenditure and the position he has to main-
tain are not out of all proportion to his income as a
married man. Members of society who marry poor
T
274 POT-POURRI FROM A SURREY GARDEN
make a great mistake in thinking that by living even as
many as eighteen years in retirement they will lose all
their friends in a way that would prove disadvantageous
either to themselves or their children. The friends of
our youth are our contemporaries, and we never can
forget or meet on terms of formality the men and women
with whom we once were intimate. The first word that
drops from the lips, on meeting after years of separation,
is, as often as not, the old familiar Christian name.
Page 162
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It is the generally-accepted meaning of success,
perhaps in its lowest sense, the contrary of failure ; and I
mean the same as Mr. Morley does when he speaks of
success in the following words : — ' It is the bitterest
element in the vast irony of human life that the time-
worn eyes to which a son's success would have brought
the purest gladness are so often closed for ever before
success has come.'
If the fashion grows of parents handing over to
-children some of the money which would otherwise come
SONS 273
to them only after their parents' death, the habit of early
saving when expenses are increased on first leaving home
might enable young people to live much more economically
than they have done in the luxurious houses where they
have been brought up. Anybody who remembers the
accounts of the childhoods of our grandfathers and
grandmothers will realise what a garret life the children
of rich people led at the beginning of the century. The
following anecdote is a small instance in point : — My
grandparents were very rich, and spent 60,OOOZ. on the
Parliamentary election of their eldest son. My mother,
who came in the middle of a large family, has often
described to me how underfed she was as a child, and
how she would gladly pick up and eat the sucked crusts
dropped by the babies on the nursery floor. Another of the
terrors of her childhood was that during the cold Northern
winters the nurserymaid used to be sent down to break
the ice on a fountain in the yard, where the children
were habitually bathed, as a means of strengthening
them. She also remembered the keen delight with
which they welcomed the news that the ice was un-
breakable. When they grew up, after seventeen their
life was merged into that of their parents, and my
mother used to wonder what they would think of her —
she had seen so little of them during her childhood.
This bringing-up may certainly have had the effect of
enabling the children of the rich to make poorer mar-
riages than they are willing to do now after being nursed
in the lap of luxury from their infancy. Poor marriages
can be very happy if both parties realise what they
undertake, and if the husband belongs to a profession
where an increase of income is possible, and where his
professional expenditure and the position he has to main-
tain are not out of all proportion to his income as a
married man. Members of society who marry poor
T
274 POT-POURRI FROM A SURREY GARDEN
make a great mistake in thinking that by living even as
many as eighteen years in retirement they will lose all
their friends in a way that would prove disadvantageous
either to themselves or their children. The friends of
our youth are our contemporaries, and we never can
forget or meet on terms of formality the men and women
with whom we once were intimate. The first word that
drops from the lips, on meeting after years of separation,
is, as often as not, the old familiar Christian name.